We Come From France...

I am back again.

I'm here to report that I quickly learned how to say I am allergic to food at a restaurant this evening. I'm sure you are surprised to hear that. While sitting at a table of my fellow students (and American aliens), I was trying to explain that I am allergic to garlic "Je suis allergique du garlic." The waitress looked puzzled and said "garlic?" in a heavy French accent. "Oui (yes)." My new found friends started stuttering and stammering to translate for me "L'ail!" Garlic in French is Ail. "L'AIL!" we all shouted in unison. To which she replied "There is no garlic in the soup" (in French).

Mom, you will be happy to know that many things from our high school French classes are coming back. I must have stored them away deep down in the back of my subconscious. Thank you.

To my friends who feel less than friendly about France (you know who you are!), the natives have been very warm and friendly, with the exception of a woman at the bank today. No sign of a reformation yet. However, our Irish guide/poet/maintenance man/history teacher, Finn, took us on a tour of the city today. He informed us that post-Reformation, Lacoste was a Huguenot town! To which I turned and smiled at Anna and said "Calvinists!" During the counter-Reformation, Lacoste fell back into the hands of the Catholics. Today the house of worship, or temple as they call it here, is now a movie house and city hall meeting place.

To my Catholic family members. Please do not be offended. You know that I am a Protestant for a reason and that I love you.

BTW, I didn't get to eat the soup anyway. It had a tomato base.

Nonetheless, I am consoled by the amazing local fromage (cheese) that I bought in the market today.

viva La France

Arrived in France what feels like a decade ago, but truly was only yesterday--after traveling for 12 hours or so at least. No, it was more. And being up for 40 some odd hours.

But we arrived.

It turns out that Lacoste, France (my new home for the next 60 days) is one of the most beautiful places I've ever set my brown eyes on. It is almost indescribable. That's what I keep saying. I have a hard time verbally expressing what the mountains in the distance look like that surround the valleys full of fields of crops, cherry trees preparing to blossom, rows of vineyards, a medieval town constructed of stone/marble/cement/NATURAL materials completely--built on a mountain, next to a quarry where they CARVED out all these stones to BUILD this architectural gem in the first place.

Our group is enjoying a strong comaraderie due to the fact that we are surrounded by other human beings that we cannot communicate with other than meager "bonjours" "mercis" and the occasional "comment ca va?" We have banded together in the name of Art and loving every minute of it.

Pictures soon to follow once I charge my battery and figure out how to download them.

I have a special commentary & image on how French men dress, wear shoes and stand.

Bonsoir!!!

My favorite fortunes...

I used to collect fortunes from cookies--I guess back when I used to eat Chinese food?

I have been feeling inspired to clean out my desk and closet in my room here at Home before heading abroad. I am throwing away bags of clothes, boxes of shoes and tons of useless, old paperwork. I used to save everything and pack it all away. In my closet and desk, apparently.

I came across two of my favorite fortunes.

The anticipation is growing.

For the past week, I wake in the morning and realize that I've had nightmares about packing and being prepared to leave for France. Last year when I went to Italy, Sarah and I had just finished moving all of our belongings (including our other roommate Carolyn's things) into a new apartment--we were up all night, moving small loads in my car. It was a nightmare. We ended up sleeping for an entire day after that. Then I had to pack and go to Italy the next day. I was frantically putting things in my suitcase the night before--unable to control the wild impulses of anxiety that were literally surging through my system. The adrenaline poured into my stomach.

As of late, I've dreamt that I was packing and moving again and speeding around in a car, trying to get it all done. Then there was the dream about realizing it was time to leave and only having an hour to pack. I wake up and say thank you when I realize that it is actually a week away and I still have time to pack.

I have a large list of items (mostly photographic equipment & art supplies) that must be stuffed into my luggage in addition to personal items. How will it all fit? I don't want to be dragging (not carrying) bags all over Europe.

It will all be done, yes? Yes, it will. I just have to put off fear and trust in God to accomplish for me that which I cannot do for myself (which is everything). Yes, dependence on Him, not myself.

I've made technological leaps and bounds forward in the past few days. Welcome to the 21st century. I finally purchased a small, point & shoot digital camera. It has a Leica lens which means one thing--I'm going to do some damage to France--snatching up and capturing bits and pieces of it with this find tuned piece of German glass.

Yes, photographers get all flustered by pieces of glass.

Count down to the big flight is 8 days (almost 7).

Intro.

My first thought is that of another--the poet Edna St. Vincent Millay...

First Fig

My candle burns at both ends;
 It will not last the night ;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
 It gives a lovely light!

I think I shall forgo sleep when I reach Lacoste.
There will be too many secrets to discover in
the Provencal valley.

But for now, there will be a few late nights of preparation.